The Brightest Star
by Les-Gateaux
Summary: AU. Atobe is the richest actor in the movie business, but money can't buy everything, including a boy's heart...and when a rival studio grows too jealous, he may not even keep his life. FujiAto (most likely...)
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I think you've all gotten the point by now…

I keep digging graves for myself. Each time I start a new fic, I promise myself that I'm going to finish Bachelorette, but it just…never happens…

Blame Yukimura. And Sanada. And Atobe. And Fuji. Because it's all their fault. Really.

And I'm quite annoyed right now. So far, I have _perfect attendance_ in school, and now I'm sick. It's winter break, people! Plus I'm at my cousin's house, and I haven't seen her in four years, and I'm bedridden! (At least I have access to the laptop.)

Oh, and by the way, I've listened to Crying Sky over a hundred times by now. That's over ten hours. Wow. (I am addicted to this song, really.) The funny thing is that I absolutely hated it the first time I listened to it…

There's something wrong with my account. This is the seventh time I've tried uploading this...(sorry your review got deleted, Seiya, but I had to re-upload the fic, so...)

**The Brightest Star**

Chapter One – Two Months

Atobe leaned back in his chair and waited patiently for the hairstylist to finish. She was trying her best to arrange the 'youthfully careless' look he was known for, the slightly windswept appearance that promised adventure without seeming overly messy.

"Do hurry up," he murmured lazily, gazing at his reflection. Perfect, as usual. "I still need to get through the wardrobe specialist, Sakuno."

"Hai," she replied, carefully fixing one last strand in place. "Is that to your liking, Master Keigo?"

He inspected it from all sides. "Lovely." Standing, he swept out of the room, carelessly tossing a handful of bills on the table. Technically, she was already paid for just having the job, but a few tips now and then ensured that he always got the best from her.

Fuji approached him as he started towards his fashion designer's rooms. "Atobe, you'd better hurry. Half an hour left, and it takes at least twenty-five minutes to get to La Maison du Soleil."

Atobe winced at the name of the restaurant. The entire cast for his newest film was supposed to meet there, but the star actor was regretting agreeing to go. "I hate French cuisine. Really. Besides, I can afford to be fashionably late, right?"

His manager laughed. "No, because you agreed to pick up Lise Chevoynne on your way there, remember?"

Right. His girlfriend. His foreign, bratty, bitch of a girlfriend that he was only going out with for publicity. "I don't suppose I can break up with her?"

"Of course not. Don't lose your temper." Fuji pushed open the door in front of them. Mizuki was already ready with Atobe's newest ensemble – a variation of the leopard-skin shirt and leather pants the actor was known for. "You can't get rid of her for another six weeks, remember? Inui calculated that that would be the point in which your popularity would stop rising. Once you dump her, all the fangirls will start lining up in thousands."

"And that's a good thing." Atobe slipped into the shirt.

Fuji nodded, pulling on his own Versace outfit. "Let's go."

The limo was already waiting as Atobe slipped into the back, followed by his manager. Fuji accompanied Atobe just about everywhere the actor went; after all, he was almost as well-known as the diva, having been the one who brought Atobe to prominence in the first place.

Lise's mansion was just a few streets down, and she was already waiting, dressed in a much-too-revealing white dinner gown, so much spray in her hair that the wind couldn't budge it. "Keigo, darling," she purred in her flawed Japanese. "So kind of you to pick me up."

Fuji's smile widened at Atobe's obvious discomfort. "Get in," the actor muttered, shifting over. After a pause, he added the obligatory '_dear'. _

"Syusuke," the girl continued, holding out a gloved hand towards the manager. "Delightful to see you again."

"Charmed, Lise," Fuji replied sweetly – poisonously so – and made no movement to take the proffered hand. Blue eyes flashed for a minute. It was obvious that neither Atobe's girlfriend or his manager cared at all for the other.

Lise dropped her hand. The limo pulled away, heading towards La Maison du Soleil.

Fuji watched as Atobe was thoroughly molested by the foreign actress. He rolled his eyes. "How easily the lion is charmed by a lamb," he murmured to himself.

"It's your fault I'm stuck with her," Atobe hissed back at him, trying to keep her hands away from his lap.

Lise blinked. "What was that, Keigo?"

"Nothing," the actor snapped, a bit too harshly.

"We're here," the driver announced. He walked around and opened the side door.

Fuji was the first to step out, to the flashing of many cameras. He technically wasn't in the movie business, but with his piercing blue eyes and aristocratic features, he certainly wasn't ignored, either. After a few minutes of cameras, Fuji bent and extended a hand in the direction of the limo.

By all aspects, it looked as if he was helping Lise out of the car, but their hands never touched. She straightened, smiling with rows of perfectly white (and possibly fake) teeth. Both of them moved away from the door, as one last person stepped out.

The cameras were literally blinding, and Atobe tossed back his hair – successfully demolishing Sakuno's hour-long work – and flashed his own brilliant smirk. He lifted a hand in acknowledgement. Waiting for another period of time, during which his fans screamed his name, he began walking to the restaurant, Lise hanging onto his arm and Fuji walking on his other side.

The rest of the cast was already there, waiting impatiently. "How irritating," Oshitari muttered. "Must you go through the whole cheering thing before entering?"

"Jealous of my fans?" the actor replied, glancing around the restaurant. He shrugged Lise off his arm – she was a serious detriment to walking – and sighed.

"Hopefully," Gakuto remarked snidely, "you won't throw up after eating snails again."

Atobe glared at him. "Thanks for reminding me just why I hate French food." The party moved to the back of the restaurant, where there was another smaller room with a single, huge table. As soon as he sat down, Jirou slipped in on one side of him – it was amazing how fast the narcileptic could move – and Lise tried to secure the other side.

Fuji _accidentally_ stuck his foot out, and the actress tripped. Immediately, the manager slid into the seat. "Ah…Lise, dear, did you fall? I'm so sorry. You're not hurt, are you?"

None of the actors even bothered hiding their amusement.

Lise glared and stalked to the other end of the table, seating herself next to a very unlucky Ohtori, who shifted a few inches closer to Shishido.

Near Atobe, another man stood, tall and fairly imposing. He pushed back his glasses and waited patiently for silence. This was the leading director of the movie business, Tezuka Kunimitsu.

When absolute silence had descended upon the group, he nodded. "This dinner," he began, "is not for amusement, enjoyment, etc. Inui has recently been researching our largest rival corporation – namely, Rikkaidai Studios, the only other movie business with a revenue to rival ours."

He waited for the whispers to die down. "Judging from the data gathered, they're planning to launch a film that will be successful enough to make all of ours look like crap. Because of this, we're quitting our current project. We need to have our own billion-dollar film." He paused again. "All our scriptwriters have been working on this new project for a while."

"What is it about?" Atobe asked coolly.

Tezuka turned to him. "That doesn't matter. All you need to know for now is that we need to have this film out the day before Rikkaidai's, which gives us exactly two months."

"Are you _insane?" _Gakuto yelled. "That's impossible!"

The director's glasses glinted. "We'll be paying you double. That should nullify your complaints, right, Gakuto?"

"…yeah." The redhead slumped back into his chair, ignoring Oshitari's smirk.

"Understood? If you have complaints, email me." Tezuka sat down. "Enjoy your dinner."

Atobe turned to Fuji. "A bit overachieving, isn't he?"

"Just slightly." The manager smiled. "Look, Atobe, it's your favorite!"

The actor turned to the table and shuddered. Filming a movie in two months – that he could deal with. But snails were another matter altogether.

* * *

Atobe had managed to get away with eating about three things, and those three things were all desserts. Fuji, meanwhile, sampled a bit of everything, and added his own touches. Somehow, an entire tube's worth of wasabi had found its way into the platter of seafood.

It wasn't hard to guess who had done it, especially since he was the only one who touched the seafood after that.

Atobe stood by the limo with Fuji and Lise. He got in first, and waited, expecting both the other two to enter after him.

However, he heard Fuji remark quickly, "Atobe agreed to pick you up, but he never said anything about driving you home, did he? I thought not. Bye, Lise _dear_, and see you next time!" Fuji hopped into the limo and slammed the door.

"What'd you say about not losing your temper?"

Fuji blinked at him. "I said that you couldn't lose your temper. And I didn't lose your temper, I lost _mine_."

Atobe rolled his eyes.

"I can't stand her," his manager continued. "All that touchy-feely stuff she does…you did notice that she stole fifty dollars from your pocket on the way here, right?"

"Yeah, but fifty's a small price to pay to keep her quiet."

Fuji sighed. "How irritating."

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, Fuji absently tossing an empty tube of wasabi up and down. "You know, I talked to Tezuka after dinner."

"Hn."

The manager glanced over. "You should be careful."

"Hn."

"Stop making those little ambiguous noises. You sound just like Tezuka."

"Hn…wait, I most certainly do not sound like the Ice Prince!"

"Heh." Fuji grinned. "Anyways, he said that there's a possibility that Rikkaidai Studios will try getting rid of Hyoutei Inc.'s biggest star."

Atobe blinked at him. "So?"

"That would be you," the manager muttered.

"I know. I just like hearing it said." The actor smirked.

Fuji glared at him. "Inui mentioned that Rikkaidai's hired a group of assassins, at any rate – they call themselves Fudomine, and they've only ever failed one mission."

"Never heard of them," Atobe replied breezily.

"Well, of course not. All you ever hear is your own praise."

The actor glowered. "Go on, keep insulting me. I have the ability to fire you, you know."

"Sure you do. But the contract you signed states that if you ever try getting rid of me, ninety percent of your money goes to me, because without me, you'd be a poor little nobody on the streets."

"Che." Atobe tilted his perfect nose.

His manager laughed. "Just be careful, ok?"

"When am I not?" The limo stopped, and Fuji stepped out, waiting patiently for the actor to follow.

As soon as Atobe began walking towards his mansion, a knife whipped past his face, inches from his nose, and lodged into the intricately shaped metal of the gates.

Fuji raised an eyebrow. "So alert, right, Atobe?"

"Don't sweat it. Things like this happen all the time."

Another swish, and a knife whizzed over his head, taking out a single strand of hair in the process.

Atobe froze. "My hair. My perfect hair." He whirled, eyes blazing, before Fuji dragged him into the mansion and slammed the door shut.

The actor trembled with rage. "That's it. Those Rikkaidai brats are so dead."

* * *

Yukimura sat up in bed, smiling. He gazed up at Sanada. "Genichirou! What a surprise."

"Yeah, because it's not like he visits you every minute of every day of every week of every month of every year of every decade of-"

"We get the point," Yanagi snapped at Kirihara, who shrugged, flipping through the script again.

Sanada sighed. "Anyways, we've hired Fudomine. They seem to know what they're doing."

"Oh?" Yukimura nodded. "And how's our 'secret agent' from Hyoutei?"

"We just contacted him. Apparently, Atobe's been put on guard – probably from that damned manager of his. They've increased security by around triple."

"Well, that does complicate things a bit." Yukimura stretched, yawning. "But only a bit."

Sanada nodded. "At any rate, Atobe will soon be dead."

Kirihara glanced up, eyes glinting red. "And there goes our competition."

"Cue the millions," Yanagi added.

This would have been the place for evil laughter, but the actors of Rikkaidai Studios were much too well-bred for that. Instead, they merely chuckled in a mildly sinister fashion.

"We'll have to move quickly," Sanada remarked offhandedly.

"Yes." Yukimura flicked through his own copy of their new script. "After all, Atobe's planning to dump Lise in a few weeks."

Kirihara chortled. "It's really funny that Atobe hasn't realized who – or what – Lise is."

"Atobe obviously hasn't gotten too far with her, then." Yukimura glanced up, smiling. "But still, I feel bad for putting 'Lise' in such a potentially embarrassing situation."

"Indeed." Yanagi smirked. "Poor Niou."

* * *

Quick explanation, in case this was confusing. Niou is currently pretending to be a foreign actress called 'Lise', and is Atobe's 'girlfriend'.

Anyways, the plot bishies (blink) have been satisfied. So off I go to work on Bachelorette Chapter Ten. Yay!

Pairing ideas, anyone? Just click the little blue button.


	2. It Starts

Disclaimer: If Tenipuri were mine, AtoFuji would be a given.

Written only because I was on PoT withdrawal…

The Brightest Star

Chapter Two – It Begins

Niou stormed through the door, ignoring the way even Yukimura – the beloved, calm, kind leader of their studio – was smiling in a way that was not completely innocent. He kicked off his shoes, aiming for Sanada's head, and he had very good aim.

Heels hurt when smashed into one's nose. Especially if said heels were six inches long.

"Calm down, Niou," Yukimura soothed.

Kirihara snickered.

Niou threw the dress at him. He was wearing a t-shirt and shorts underneath, which was good, or else Yagyuu might have spontaneously combusted. At any rate, the star of Rikkaidai Studios was rather surprised to find himself covered by a layer of silky material, which was surprisingly heavy and not very comfortable.

Said star ripped the dress off his head and tossed it in the general direction of the closet in the far corner.

And, of course, continued to snicker at Niou.

The disguise specialist twitched. "Yukimura, I'm not going to take this any more! Either you make that insufferable brat stop laughing, or you dress _him_ up as Lise and make _him_ spend an evening feeling up that obnoxious, arrogant, supercilious, narcissistic, egotistical jerk!"

"Akaya, stop laughing," the invalid chided gently. Due to an accident as a child, he was paralyzed from the waist down. However, he was still worshipped and loved by just about everyone in Rikkaidai. (Sanada's was a special kind of love, of course.) "What did you learn about Fuji this time around?"

Niou shrugged, dropping onto the bed and methodically running his hands through his hair to return it to his usual, precise mess. "I…hate…him."

"Well, we know that." Sanada raised an eyebrow. "Do you know his weaknesses? Strengths? Etc?"

"Um." The white-haired boy slumped, sighing. "Well…there's one thing…"

* * *

Fuji, having just entered the studio, wandered over. "How's it going?"

Atobe stared at him. "I have to wear wings."

"Well, yes, you're playing the part of an angel…"

"_Wings!_" Hands gesturing wildly, the diva glared. "It wouldn't even be that bad, but the wings _shed_! Never let it be said that ore-sama _sheds_!"

"Um…"

"Everyone will make fun of me! They'll be like 'oh, look, Atobe's shedding again-'"

Fuji grabbed his companion's shoulders and forced Atobe into the nearest chair. "Atobe. Calm down. Take a deep breath." He waited until Atobe obliged. "Now. Did you sleep at all for the past few nights?"

"No, I was memorizing…script…" Atobe's head lolled to one side.

"Atobe!" The manager shook the actor until silver eyes blinked slowly open. "I'm going to get you some coffee, ok?"

The silver eyes blinked again. Fuji took that as a yes. Grabbing a megaphone from Tezuka's desk, he yelled, "Black coffee for Atobe! Now!"

It was amazing how quickly the females on the set raced to please Fuji and Atobe.

"Black?" Atobe wondered, yawning. "What about the sugar? I mean, sugar's mandatory in coffee, isn't it? It's sweet and stuff…"

His companion kicked him. "_Wake up._"

"Hm? Oh…sorry…" Another huge yawn. "I'm acting like Jirou…" This statement was accompanied by high-pitched laughter.

Fuji grabbed the coffee, forced Atobe's mouth open, and poured the liquid in.

The actor sputtered for a while before swallowing. "You did _not_ have to do that."

"Get on the set or Tezuka'll yell at you." Seeing that Atobe wasn't particularly motivated enough to even walk, the manager sighed, wrapped his hands around the diva's slender wrists, and pulled.

Tezuka raised an eyebrow as Fuji dragged Atobe onto the stage. "…is he alive?"

"He's breathing," Fuji replied shortly. "Unconscious, probably, but breathing."

"No, I'm awake," Atobe mumbled. "Just give me another few minutes before I go to school…"

The director lifted a megaphone, placed one end against Atobe's ear, and yelled, "UP!"

"Screw you!" he snapped, leaping to his feet. "I'm up, I'm up…" He swayed slightly.

"Right." He was rewarded with dubious looks and surreptitious smirks from the rest of the cast. "We'll be rehearsing the first two scenes using the script today-"

Hyoutei's star blinked. "Wait. I did _not_ just hear you say that. No. We are _not_ going to use the damn script because I spent all of last week memorizing it! And if none of you did that, well, isn't that just too bad!"

Tezuka closed his eyes and counted to ten. "Fuji."

"Hai." The manager, armed with three more cups of coffee, advanced towards Atobe.

* * *

It turned out too much coffee had a bad effect on Atobe.

Fuji watched with weary resignation as the actor bounced cheerfully onto stage, threw himself into the scene with his usual passion, and promptly fell asleep in the middle of his dialogue with Lise. (Not that talking to Lise was ever interesting, per se, but…)

Tezuka ended up utilising the megaphone a lot that day.

Finally, the director called a break. The manager grabbed Atobe and threw him onto a couch. "Sleep. Now."

The star was only too glad to follow the comman.

Fuji glanced over at Tezuka, who was massaging his temples and looking generally pissed. (Only a select handful of people could tell when said director was annoyed; it was the slight increase in the slant of his eyebrows that showed it.) He sighed.

"Syusuke!" Lise called in an overly affected voice, waving at him.

He lifted his head. "Yes, Lise?"

"Want to go grab a bite at the café?" she asked, indicating the small store near them. It was a favorite meeting place for actors. A favorite _romantic_ place.

"In case you've forgotten," he replied sarcastically, "you're going out with Atobe."

Lise laughed. It did indeed sound like the ringing of bells. Like the ringing of loud, bangy, metal bells used at schools. "That's the point, Syusuke. I want to get to know you much better. The way things are going, Atobe's going to have to choose between us at some point. And we all know who he'd choose."

"Indeed," Fuji answered coolly.

"So what do you say we become friends?"

The manager blinked. "Excuse me for a minute while I go throw up, Lise."

Lise glared at him, tossing her hair. "You're so mean. At least I'm trying."

"Want a piece of advice?" Gakuto offered, wandering past. "Stop trying."

Tezuka, flipping through the script, lifted his megaphone again. "Rehearsing scene two!" he called. "Atobe's not in that scene. Fuji, make sure he stays asleep."

"I don't think you have to worry about that," the manager muttered, gazing down at Atobe, who looked like he wouldn't wake up even if the Apocalypse occurred. He absently brushed a few stray bangs out of the actor's eyes.

And paused. "…Tezuka?"

"Yes?"

"I hope you have an extra set of wings, because Atobe's currently using his as a pillow…"

* * *

Just about everyone was delighted and relieved when lunchtime came. Tezuka let the megaphone drop. "Take an hour for break."

Atobe stumbled wearily off stage. "…so tired…Why is it that Jirou can sleep whenever he wants, but I can't?"

"Jirou's an official narcileptic. Besides, you're the star, after all." Fuji pulled his hair up and tied it into a ponytail. It gave him a slightly more mature look, accentuating the aristocratic features of his face. "Let's go grab lunch."

"Order me a hotel room for one hour," Atobe mumbled, pulling out his cell phone.

His manager laughed. "Is it really mandatory to sleep on silk sheets?" Nevertheless, he dialed the appropriate number. "Hello? I need a room for one hour…"

'One hour?' the girl on the other end asked. 'You mean one day?'

"If I'd meant one day, I would have said one day. Hurry up, you're wasting time. I only need it for fifty-eight minutes now."

'…hai. Um, could I have your name?'

"Book it under Fuji Syusuke-"

'KYAAAAAAA! Are you THE Fuji Syusuke? Like, the REALLY REALLY hot one with those GORGEOUS blue eyes? I can't believe I'm getting a chance to talk to FUJI SYUSUKE!'

Fuji winced, holding the phone at arm's length. "Excuse me…"

'AYUMI! AYUMI! I'm talking to FUJI SYUSUKE!'

Another girl's voice came over the line. 'Fuji Syusuke? Wow. Um, could you do me a favor? Like, from one stranger to another?'

"What?" he asked resignedly.

'Could you, um, marry me?' Ayumi's question was interrupted by the first girl, who shrieked, 'That's not fair! I talked to him first!'

Fuji pressed 'end'.

"Sorry, Atobe, you're not getting your hotel room. Let's go off to the buffet already. You can sleep on a table or something."

Hearing no response, he glanced down. Atobe was curled up like a cat, wrapped securely around Fuji's feet.

"…or you could do that." The manager tried walking. Atobe's arms tightened, ensuring that the other man fell abruptly to the ground.

Fuji sighed again. "The things I do for him…"

* * *

Niou locked himself into a stall (the indignities of having to use a girl's bathroom!) and pulled off his wig. He glared at the incredibly itchy strands. He was seriously beginning to hate Lise, which meant he was hating himself, which wasn't a good thing. Because if he ever told Sanada he hated himself, he'd probably be shipped off to a psychiatrist's office.

Pulling out a bright pink cell phone – gone were the days when he could act all masculine and have a nice, normal _black_ one – he pressed the first number on speeddial.

Not surprisingly, Kirihara just happened to be the one who picked up. "Yes, Lise?" he snickered.

"Yukimura. Now."

"Aww. You don't want to talk to me, sweetie?"

"GET ME ON THE PHONE WITH YUKIMURA, YOU FREAK!"

Kirihara flipped the cell over to Yukimura, who blinked a bit. "Niou?"

"I want to get out of here," was the first thing the disguise specialist snapped. "Do you have any _idea_ what part I'm playing? I mean, it's only a minor role – I have three lines with Atobe or so – but I'm playing a teenage _schoolgirl._ Do you have any idea how short those skirts are?"

"Of course he doesn't," Kirihara called from across the room. "Unlike you, Yukimura doesn't crossdress."

Niou hesitated. "…do you have me on speakerphone?"

"Oh, um, sorry. Kiri must have turned it on when he threw the phone over."

"So now everyone knows that I'm stuck as a schoolgirl. If the skirt were any shorter, it'd be a belt!"

Yukimura laughed softly. "Well, why'd you call us?"

"Just to tell you that Hyoutei's movie is coming along pretty well. Other than the fact that Atobe keeps falling asleep, that is. They've been rehearsing all day, and they've run a few scenes off-book."

"Ah." The other boy paused. "Well…I suppose you can start."

Niou smirked. "Really?"

"No, he was just kidding," Kirihara yelled sarcastically.

The actor (actress?) twitched. "Get me off speakerphone, _please._"

He clicked 'end' and walked out of the bathroom, quite pleased with himself. Rearranging his wig, he flashed a bright smile and sauntered cheerfully back on the set.

Only a few security guards were standing around, and they looked fairly bored – after all, nothing bad had happened in Hyoutei ever since the accidental pink dye found in Atobe's shampoo. (The news claimed it'd been done by jealous fans. Fuji later admitted to commiting the crime, because the movie they'd been filming had bored him.)

Carefully moving to the ladder leading up to the complicated system used to make Atobe 'fly' as an angel, Niou pulled out a pair of shears.

* * *

Fuji's legs were asleep.

The manager groaned. "Get up, Atobe."

"Mm…" The actor mumbled something completely random and went back to sleep.

"They're filming your scene. Get up!"

A hint of silver showed beneath almost-closed eyelids. "And I was having a wonderful dream, too." Atobe let go of Fuji's legs – Fuji promptly crashed to the floor, wincing – and wandered towards the stage.

He frowned as the wardrobe crew rushed out and tried stuffing his arms through the straps in the fluffy grey wings. "Oi, be careful. Do you know how much it costs to do my hair?" He flipped his hair, and the entire wardrobe (made of females) stopped working to swoon.

"Don't do that," Tezuka snapped, walking by. "You know perfectly well that every female in your general vicinity faints when you do that."

"And it never gets old." Due to the rapid narrowing of the director's chocolate eyes, however, Atobe allowed them to stick on the wings. He flapped his arms a few times. "Hm. Not bad."

Oshitari raised an eyebrow. "'Oh, what may man within him hide, though angel on the outward side,'" he quoted blithely.

Atobe glared. "I _hate_ Shakespeare."

"Don't get me wrong," the other actor replied, grinning. "I was referring to your wonderfully…um, chaste nature. Yes."

Gakuto coughed loudly, gazing in the other direction when the silver-grey eyes turned their stare upon him.

The tech crew carefully wrapped the harness around Atobe's wings and robes (white robes, which had gone out of fashion after Rome fell, but looked chic on Atobe nevertheless) and gestured to the others operating the system. Atobe was lifted slowly into the air.

"Couldn't you use computers or something to do this?" he yelled at no one in particular.

"We'll use computers for the flying scenes. Right now, you're just hovering and talking. Surely you can do that, right?"

Tezuka's story was a strange one. He was brilliant at just about everything, but had wanted to be an actor. Unfortunately, he wasn't equipped with enough emotions, so he was stuck being a director, making the lives of every actor horrible.

Fuji limped over, massaging his legs. "Atobe's scared of heights," he murmured in Tezuka's general direction.

"Really?" Tezuka blinked. "Atobe, you're scared of heights?"

The diva shrugged. "Um."

"I'm sorry. But…that's just too bad. If you don't want to stay up there, you'd better have your lines perfect!"

"Tyrant," Shishido hissed.

Atobe gazed down at the stage, which was fifteen feet below him. "…can we hurry up and just do this?"

"We're trying to find Jirou," Ohtori explained.

Fuji blinked, hearing a soft shuffling on the rafters. He leapt forward as the audible 'click' of shears was heard. It was a good thing he'd been standing on stage next to Tezuka, or he would have never made it. At any rate, he managed to position himself perfectly to catch the falling angel.

…perhaps 'catch' wasn't the best word, since Atobe landed on top of him, successfully flattening the poor manager.

There was utter silence on the set for five seconds before Fuji murmured softly, "Ouch."

Atobe groaned, sitting up, only to be kicked. "Atobe, your wing is poking me in a place no male likes to be poked."

"Ah…sorry." The actor shifted slightly. It was then that the pain kicked in. "Ah…my ankle…"

Fuji lifted his head from the ground. "I don't care if your ankle's broken. GET OFF ME! You're really heavy, you know?"

Atobe tried standing and winced. "I think I twisted my ankle…"

"A lot worse could have happened," Gakuto pointed out. "Shouldn't you thank Fuji?"

"Right. Thanks."

Fuji used his creativity to come up with a response that wasn't exactly the norm. "_YOUR FOOT IS ON MY BACK!" _

Oshitari helped Atobe off the stage, Gakuto helped Fuji, and Niou, leaning down to see whether anyone was fatally injured, leaned a bit too far.

His wig slipped off, falling directly in front of Fuji. There was no mistaking that hairstyle.

"Lise? But…" The manager stopped, staring upwards at Niou. "Rikkaidai…" he realized.

Niou blinked. "…oops."

* * *

...and Song is back with a vengeance! (evil laughter)


End file.
